


Call My Name

by commodorecliche



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Jean, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fingerfucking, JeanMarco Week, Love, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Smut, jeanmarco, top!Marco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4259145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commodorecliche/pseuds/commodorecliche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeanmarco Week, Day 4, "Call My Name" </p>
<p>Shameless Jeanmarco Shower Sex</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call My Name

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 4's Prompt "Call My Name" for Jeanmarco Week 2015, and also because someone recently requested I write some Jeanmarco shower sex. So here you go!

“M-Mar-” Jean stutters, cheek pressed against the cold but steadily warming tiles of the shower wall. Marco doesn’t let him finish though, shushing him with a gentle but commanding tone.

“Shh, don’t say it yet.” He coos, lips murmuring hot against the flesh of Jean’s neck, fingers ghosting along the contours of Jean’s spine. He traces little drops of water from the shower along the lines of his skin, creating goosebumps in their wake, and Marco wants only to taste him.

But he won’t yet.

Because he loves when Jean is like this – keening and desperate, body practically shaking from raw, wanton need. His fingers reach the end of Jean’s spine but he doesn’t dare tread further. It’s too soon, much too soon to give in to the frenetic pleas careening past Jean’s lips.

“P-pl _ease_ ,” Jean whines as Marco’s fingers grip the curve of his ass firmly. Marco steps closer, the water coursing over the two of them like a deluge, and he fucking loves it. His dick is hard, and he makes sure to grind himself up along the crease of Jean’s ass, if only to remind his lover what it is he’s begging for. Marco would love nothing more than to simply slide home right this instant, and Jean probably wouldn’t complain either, judging by the way he cocks his hips out to make himself available. But Marco knows better – he knows Jean loves it most when he’s teased, tormented, and denied.

He presses his chest flush against the warm expanse of Jean’s back, hips aligned just right if only to torment his lover even more. He creeps his hand steadily around to Jean’s front, pads of his fingers pressing with commanding force into the musculature that lines Jean’s hipbones. With a quick flick of his hips, Marco makes sure to remind Jean of his presence, dick grinding steadily along Jean’s entrance, because there’s nothing that gets him harder than the groans and prayers that tumble off Jean’s tongue when he’s desperate and ready.

Marco latches his mouth back onto Jean’s shoulder, reveling in the sharp intake of breath he elicits when he presses the tips of his canines into the flesh. It isn’t too deep – nothing that will mark his boy up – but it’s enough: the pressure plenty firm to make Jean putty in his hands.

He drags his tongue along the expanse of Jean’s shoulder, up, up along the camber of his neck, tongue savoring the taste of sweat and water and something that’s uniquely Jean. The fire this boy ignites in the pit of Marco’s stomach is enough to make his legs quiver. He’s so warm – pressed tight and flush against his boy, the fall of the steaming water encasing their bodies, and Marco would keep him here all night if he had the chance.

Curling his fingers ever so slightly, he drags the blunt edges of his fingernails along the muscle and skin that span across Jean’s pelvis before slipping slyly further. He takes hold of Jean – hard, so _fucking hard_ , and all for him – fingers circling him and stroking with agonizing slowness as he whispers into Jean’s ear.

“You love it, don’t you?”

“Y-yes…” Jean stammers, hips desperately rolling, trying frantically to push himself into Marco’s fist or to grind himself backwards onto Marco’s cock. Marco can’t help but smirk.

“Tell me how much you want it.” He demands, giving Jean’s dick another slow stroke, the water hot and warm, but not smoothing the way, as he squeezes.

“Ahhh, fu-fuck… God, I want it s-so bad,”

“Yeah, baby?”

Marco punctuates the question with another focused roll of his hips against Jean’s ass.

The keen that Jean makes is inhuman, and Marco fucking loves it.

“Yes, god, fuck, yes, _please_ , Mar- ”

“Don’t fuckin’ say it, not yet. You know better.” Marco scolds, quickly releasing his grip on Jean’s dick.

Marco steps away slightly, and Jean has the nerve to whine at the loss of contact. It earns him a quick slap on the ass, and his boy can only groan at the sharpness of the smack. Marco smirks, figuring that as much fun as it is to torture his lover, he has needs to. He snatches up the lube perched on the side of the tub, dribbling plenty over his hand and fingers before returning his attention back to Jean.

He steps back close – because as much fun as it is to tease Jean, even Marco can’t stand the lack of contact for too long. Mouth trailing kisses along Jean’s shoulder blades, he slips a hand between them without warning, finger playing tenderly at Jean’s entrance. Jean’s legs shake for a split second at the touch, moan slipping from his lips without any semblance of restraint. And Marco smiles.

“Good?” He murmurs softly against Jean’s skin – so hot and warm against him, wet and needy, and Marco can’t wait to slip inside him.

Jean nods frantically.

“M-more, please…”

“Hmph,” Marco chuckles, “As you wish.”

The first finger slips inside with ease, and the hot coil burns deep in Marco’s loins at the tightness just around his single digit.

“God, Jean.” He groans into his lover’s ear, finger beginning to slide out and back in, so desperately wishing it could already be his cock.

“S’good… so good, more…” Jean begs, and Marco is more than happy to oblige.

He takes two fingers and three fingers like they’re nothing, as if he’s been waiting for Marco’s dick for an eternity. And when Jean begs him again – all but demanding he give him more – Marco is more than ready to give it to him.

He lubes himself up wordlessly, hoping the water won’t wash too much of it off before he can slide inside. But Jean is so open, so ready for him, that he’s hardly concerned. One hand grips Jean’s shoulder, if only for leverage, pressing him just slightly more flush against the shower tiles as he lines himself up. But he doesn’t push in, because as much as Marco wants it, as much as he needs it, there’s nothing quite like the site of Jean open and ready and fucking _waiting_. One hand on his dick, the other still holding Jean’s shoulder, he guides himself to Jean’s entrance, teasing at his hole with the tip of his cock just enough to hear Jean growl – low and fucking sinful.

“God, fucking, _please_ ,” Jean demands, words barely breathed out, unable to find stability on his tongue as they tumble forth.

And Marco supposes he’s tormented Jean enough.

Without another word, he pushes forward, sliding himself inside in one, smooth thrust, and Jean about breaks. It’s the wall and the sureness of Marco’s grip on him that keeps him upright, and Marco takes a wicked sort of pleasure in the fact that he can deconstruct this man so much to the point where words are lost and forgotten, exchanged instead for mindless noises and inhuman groans.

When he’s fully inside, pressed flush against Jean’s body once again, Marco shudders out a breath. Because despite the fact that he wants to break too, he has to maintain some semblance of control. One hand on Jean’s hip, the other lacing under Jean’s arm and around his body to press against Jean’s chest and hold the two of them together, he leans in close to Jean’s ear.

“Say it now.” Marco demands, suddenly withdrawing his hips and thrusting forward with determined force. And Jean responds in kind.

His eyes clenched shut, he grunts at the motions, head lolling back against Marco’s shoulder, he says it.

“Yes, god, yes, _Marco_.”

“Fuck, Jean, say it again.”

Marco’s hips move without restraint, sliding out and back in if only to make Jean moan louder and louder with each punctuated motion. After the first few thrusts when Jean can only whimper and moan, wordless pleas slipping past his teeth, Marco can’t take it anymore. The hand that had so firmly pressed against Jean’s chest lifts, fingers taking hold of the sharp line of his jaw if only to regain his attention and composure.

“Say it, Jean.” Marco whispers, not stopping the thrust of his hips and Jean nods.

His mouth slack as Marco moves inside him, Jean keens and whimpers but forces the words out none the less.

“M-Marco. _Fuck_ , _Marco_. God. I… I’m…”

And Marco knows. He knows too well. He knows in the way he can feel Jean tightening around his dick, in the way he feels every muscle in Jean’s body beginning to tense, he knows Jean’s close. And the burning feeling in his gut only rages hotter at the sensation – tight and fucking slick, and all his, and Marco wants to hear it just once more. It’s all he needs.

“Yeah, Jean, fuck, I wanna hear it, when, when you come.” He pants out into his ear, and Jean can only nod wordlessly.

Marco can feel it coming and he’s close, so goddamn close that he feel it might rend him apart, all sinew and bone. But he needs to hear it just once more.

“Jean…” He grits out.

“Fuckfuck, I’m, god, Marco! Marco! I’m coming, agh, _Marco_!”

And that’s it.

Jean’s body slumps a bit, and Marco presses his forehead against the wet skin of his nape, hips thrusting with the last bouts of energy he has.

When he comes, Jean’s name spills from his lips like his own name had poured from Jean’s, and he feels weak.

Their bodies – loose and heavy from the exhaustion of orgasm – slump haphazardly together against the shower wall. The water – not nearly as hot as it was when this little endeavor had first started – spills over them like rain. And in the white noise of the waterfall, the only sound is a breathy chuckle eking from Jean’s chest and a few words.

“Fuck, I love you…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed! 
> 
> Rebloggable version can be found **[HERE](http://commodorecliche.tumblr.com/post/123082581203/call-my-name-jeanmarco-week-2015-day-4-july)**
> 
> Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! 
> 
> Feel free to check me out on [tumblr](http://commodorecliche.tumblr.com).


End file.
